In the city we’re living in right now, there’s a fantastic library. As a result, I bring home far too many books. I can’t possibly read them all, so I do a lot of skimming.

Recently I skimmed Craig Ferguson’s book, American on Purpose. It’s been three years since we had access to network tv, but when we did, I liked to watch Ferguson’s monologue on his late-night talk show before going to bed.

The book chronicles the Scottish comedian’s rise to fame, a rocky road that includes a starkly realistic description of the alcohol addiction that nearly ruined his life. Ferguson’s story is not for the squeamish or easily offended, as he can be quite blunt and uses a fair amount of profanity (sometimes the modern writer’s crutch, but in this case it’s probably just what he does).

I came away from the book thinking I would like the man if I met him. He’s proud to have become an American citizen; his patriotism is evident. A humble man with a good heart, Ferguson’s description of his parents, family and even his exes is generous and loving.

I was especially taken by what he wrote about the birth of his first child:

Anyone who has been present at a birth knows how weirdly adrenal the whole event is. As a first-time father, I found myself terrified in a whole new way, not afraid for myself but for my child, who until that moment had been an abstraction. All of a sudden he was real and the world had changed beyond recognition. Now there was someone I would unthinkingly lay down my life for, and I felt a massive, uncontrollable, powerful, feral love.

As I cut the umbilical cord, Milo started to cry and shiver. One of the nurses, a dour Russian woman who had bossed Sascha around a little too much for my liking, said, not unkindly, “Oh, baby, life is hard.”

“Shut up,” I snapped. She looked at me with astonishment.

“He just got here. He doesn’t need that **** yet.”

She looked at me like I was insane, but I didn’t give a toss. I think when you become a parent you go from being a star in the movie of your own life to a supporting player in the movie of someone else’s.

….It was past four a.m. when the mumsy nurse finally placed him in a clear plastic crib, swaddled in his blankie and wearing a tiny white wool cap. When she left us alone, Milo’s eyes were wide open and as deep and dark and blue as the sea on the Scottish coast.

For the first time it was just the two of us. He stared at me for a few minutes and I started back at him. My American son.

After a few moments he let out a long tired sigh, like the whole thing had been such an ordeal.

“I know,” I told him, “but don’t worry. I got your back.”

I particularly like this line: “I think when you become a parent you go from being a star in the movie of your own life to a supporting player in the movie of someone else’s.” How true that is! For most people, becoming a parent for the first time means losing the self-absorption of youth to the overwhelming love and concern for your child.

Many celebrities’ books are actually written by ghostwriters, but I doubt that this book was. Ferguson is an experienced writer whose credits (beyond writing for his show) include a novel and several screenplays. We’ve watched one of his movies, “Saving Grace,” a couple of times as it’s offbeat and funny. I recommend both of these: